Farewell friends

I’ve lost some dear friends,

Throughout my child hood, I grew up with Mrs. Butterworth’s, who is, or was white,  Aunt Jemima, Uncle Ben, The Brawny man, Mr. Clean, the Cream of Wheat chef and many other brand faces are now  marked as offensive sterotypes.  Growing up and in my early 20’s as I learned about product choices,  my beloved Aunt Jemima, Uncle Ben and my favorite morning chef The Cream of Wheat guy were the people and brands I trusted.  Now it seems they are all being written out of history.   How very progressive (regressive) that is. 

Why?  None of these figures ever caused me to feel whites had superiority over blacks, quite the opposite.  I felt I could trust Aunt Jemimah, Uncle Ben and the Cream of Wheat guy more because they were educated, skilled, had perfected a craft and were the bar that we as society must live up to in our own kitchens.  I don’t make pancakes from scratch because mine can’t hold a candle to Aunt Jemimah.  Malt-0-Meal is ok, but isn’t nearly as good as Cream of Wheat, rice mixes are ok, but Zatarain’s or Uncle Ben’s is who I trust.  I love and cherish those faces.  Race plays no part in it for me.  They are the kitchen wizards who raised me. 

The Brawny guy and Mr. Clean are also names I trust.  I want the men on the packages!  I want my son to know cleaning is indeed manly, as is cooking. 

Feminists and people trying to push racial inequality have destroyed the beauty of these people, undermined their incredible stories and are taking away what they mean to so many.  As a small girl I was very excited to see men depicting themselves doing typically “female” jobs.  Men could clean!  The Brawny guy said so and so did Mr. Clean, that told my child brain that it was 100% fine for men to do some cleaning.  Seeing Uncle Ben and the Cream of Wheat guy gave my son the cue that cooking is manly.  Redman chewing tobacco pays homage to the fact that Native American’s introduced the colonists to tobacco.  I don’t see it as degrading, just the way It was. 

Brands I respected because of the very positive way they portrayed black Americans, native Americans and men are now undermining my trust.  Are they saying that those people didn’t accomplish enough in their lifetime to warrant being a brand representative?  I find that highly offensive. 

Are men too good to clean, is that really woman’s work as it’s now being portrayed?  That’s very offensive to me and not the way we do things in my home.  Are black people not worthy, skillful or accomplished enough to be a brand icon?  How racist is that?  Mrs Butterworth’s was a white woman from all I knew.  How did she get mixed up in this?  Is syrup not white but rice, pancakes and cream of wheat white all are?  What about all of the other brand representatives who are people of color?  Are they somehow lacking in skills and respect to be considered the ultimate authority in their products?  What of Famous Amos?  Is Chef Boyardee (Boiardi) now going by the wayside? 

This is all just such utter bull!  None of this is racist, nor is it meant to be.  I was raised in the rural South.  All of our most respected and loved lunch ladies were black.  Their food was impeccable.  Were they capable of being more than cooks in a public school?  Absolutely!  They were very intelligent, very kind women.  They worked those jobs because they were out of school when their kids were, they could keep an eye on their kids and watch out for rapscallions.  Not one person went hungry with that cafeteria staff.  I worked a community event with the ladies and the supervisor, who was white ( she saw herself no different from her coworkers)  I learned the best and fastest way to separate eggs, how to break them so you didn’t ruin your batch of eggs, how to smile when your feet are killing you, how to smile in the face of lunacy, and many other skills.   

I’m outraged that the left who assumes insults for people who aren’t even insulted are the people calling the shots. 

Did we all know that Duncan Hines was a male travelling salesman, or is this new knowledge too?  I’ve read about the story, behind the story for many of these people.  They deserve this recognition.

I don’t know where our country is going, I can see where it’s been, I don’t like history, but I know enough to know that what you put out there in goodwill comes back to you.  I also know I don’t want to be anywhere near these people when the lightening strikes.  To whitewash and feminize all of our products does no one any favors. Let's just roll back the dial a few hundred years, when cleaning was women's work, black americans were give no voice or face on widespread products and no one aside from men could be featured on products.  

What an utter disgrace!! 

I hope this was coherent, I took my evening medication early. 

Tune in to FM

FM

Frequency module?  Funny man? Furry mutt?  The definitions could go on for days.  What I mean when I say FM is, Futures Matter.

Did you know in the USA any teen over the age of 16 charged with a drug crime is ineligible for financial aid for college?  Did you know these kids can't get any form of grant or loan from the FAFSA?  Did you know these kids who can't attend college often end up on the street, dealing drugs, on public assistance or in jail?  Did you know that if you, as a parent or guardian pay for their schooling, if they have a drug crime you can't take advantage of any tax breaks for this student? 

I don't know how much this costs to stay on top of the crimes these children are likely to commit or the lifestyle they are likely to lead.  I do know that  housing one inmate for four years costs more than a four year tuition, room and board at a public university, and well more than a 2 year community college degree or certificate.

We need to do something.  These are not bad kids with no futures.  We sentence them to lives on the edge by taking away that ray of hope; education.  I don't believe any teenager wakes up dreaming of going to prison, selling drugs, prostitution, living on the streets or so many more horrible things.  I believe ever single child, every single one matters.  I believe that futures matter.

We as a nation need to take a strong stance on drug crimes for teens and young adults up to 25 with no prior degree or certificate.

These kids deserve a chance.  Just because Jeffy had marijuana in his backpack at school does not mean it was his.  Maybe Jeffy is a bit nerdy, he's been helping the star football player, Tony with homework.  Jeffy is an outstanding student.  The star football player has a full ride scholarship lined up, things are coming up roses.  Things are great, until the day the drug dogs come to the school.  Tony knows he will get busted for that bag of weed in his backpack, he sits next to Jeffy and drops it in his backpack.  Jeffy gets caught.  Jeffy comes from the projects, his parents barely scrape by, they can't afford a lawyer, they can't afford the court fees, they can't afford the court ordered drug tests, they can't afford the fees and fines.  Jeffy suffers.  Jeffy now has the light out of his life because he was 17 and just caught drug charges.  No one has his back.

Later on Jeffy wants to go to school to become a computer programmer, he's filling out the FAFSA, then he hits the line where they ask about drug crimes.  Just drug crimes.  Not rape, not assault, nothing violent.  Only drug charges are covered.  Jeffy realizes he has no future and gives up.  Jeffy now costs the tax payers thousands of dollars per month.  Why not let Jeffy get a grant or a scholarship, invest in Jeffy.  Let Jeffy become part of the working class, let Jeffy feel his worth.

I think we need to start a movement to remove that question from the FAFSA.  I think all people under the age of 25 who are not serious repeat offenders deserve a chance.  I would rather my tax dollars to to get Jeffy a diploma or certificate for a good career.  I would rather Jeffy have self worth, be a tax payer and feel pride that his past didn't hold him back.


True, some of these kids do buy, sell and use drugs, but not all of them do.  Some of them are victims of convenience and circumstance.  Some of them may have had one weak moment, or maybe they gave a ride home to the wrong person, with this person planting drugs in the car out of spite.  This happens.  We need reform for things that matter.  We need reform for the future of our children, who are the future of our nation.  Too many people are in jail for drug crimes, because that's all they've ever had, they couldn't break out.  Too many young people lose it all in one stupid moment.

If we can keep kids in school, off the streets and out of the welfare cycle, doesn't it benefit all of us?

I am the biggest slacker

I promise I'll call you right back.  Yes, I would love to go out with you again.  Of course we can go shopping!  We will definitely keep in touch.  It's been over 30 years.  I think I may have a problem when it comes to follow through.  I make plans, I really do plan to do them.  I really did plan to write more often last year, and the year before.  I did plan to enter NaNoWriMo in November and actually complete all of camp in June.  I really failed! 

I have so much going on in my head, it's hard to actually get it nailed down to write about anything when I have the time to write.  Usually when I have down time I'm doing one of a hundred other things that could also technically wait until later.  The only hard and fast thing that must be done is feeding the guys.  The feline guy is the most demanding.  (little man is 15) I automate the bills, I do have to grocery shop, and make excuses for things I either didn't or won't do.  I do have a very important date with season four of Supersize vs Superskinny on the computer.  We don't get that over here in the US on any station that I know of.  The series also ended well before I even realized it existed.  I've been very busy binge watching them in bed at the end of a long day. 

I won't make any promises to myself but I do plan to write more this year.  It's really therapeutic for me, it makes me think, it also gives me some sort of creative focus, in other words...it's good for me. 

He's an Adult

Years ago when I started this blog, I had more time on my hands.  My hands were also more messed up and needed to work on typing.  My mind was reeling and I needed a mental occupation as I healed physically.  Way back then in 2011, our son was 12/13 and in his first year of middle school.  There was a lot going on, but I had time to share my struggles and triumphs in silly ways.  I had time to write it out.

My writing time slowly started to change, then it rapidly changed.  Before I knew it months would pass before I even remembered I had a blog.  I logically knew it was there, I just had other things to do.  I volunteered as a team mom during football and lacrosse.  I worked with a good friend or two administrating an online support group.  I became much more committed to educating people about spinal stenosis and different types of walking spinal cord injuries. I became occupied with helping our son through the trials and tribulations of middle school and then high school.  I became insane with rage at some injustices he was made to suffer.  I also loudly made a total jerk and spectacle of myself one day, just to alleviate some of the blowback he was sure to suffer the next day.  I figured if they were talking about how absolutely batty I was, they'd have more to discuss than him and the unfair treatment he had endured.  Nonplussed (old definition) was the only way to describe our emotions concerning the disparity at his old school.  We made the decision to change his school before he lost his mind and his personality.  

Our child learned to drive, I went back to work.  I discovered I had other talents and gifts.  I discovered I can still be pretty effective and I could still physically handle some work.  I found new physical and inner strength.  One day I woke up and he was 18.  One day he forwarded me a message "Congratulations! You have been accepted to Notgonnanameithere College"  Great!  Wait! What!?  College?  Now?

I was hit with the reality that our son was soon going to no longer be attending public school in a compulsory education setting.  I also realized the schools he'd talked about for years weren't even mentioned.  They weren't even mentioned because he didn't even apply!  When I asked him about this, his answer knocked my socks off.  He chose Notgonnanameithere College because of;

1.) Cost
2.) Distance
3.) Culinary Program
4.) Transfer-ability of credits

Delving further into his new found thought center, he shared with me that he doesn't want to graduate with debt if he can avoid it.  He wants to go slowly and think about all his interests.  He found out through years of chatting with me, his Dad and teachers (Oh my, he listened to parents too?!) that any core classes done at any community college were usually very transferable and were far less in cost than a 4 year institution.  This college has begun a few 4 year degree programs, it's filled with certificates he can get as he's working toward his major in whatever field he chooses.

Our child also voted in his first election.  He has been a steadfast defender of logical political discussions, he makes salient points, he can argue his own with well thought out reasons and is open to new information.  He was actively working to have a three party system a long with some of his other young friends.  I watched him grow into a well rounded, well spoken young man in a flash.  He's still given to his regular 18 year old "I'm a nitwit" posts, but for the most part, he makes good points and argues well without pot shots.

The new school did all of this and taught him a love for creative writing.  He's again enjoying the pursuit of knowledge.  I can't praise this public charter school enough.  They had college application days, applications were free or lower cost on those days.  He could have applied to any, but he chose only the one.

Time to get serious.

Time to quit my part time job because my husband changed jobs.

Time to become a housewife and Mom again.

So where is all this boring stuff going?  It's going here.  He's an adult in age, he's an adult in some thoughts and ways, but he's still the little guy who needs me to put my special oil healing blend on his arm.

I love my son.  I'm proud of my son.  My son will do wonderful things as long as he pursues what he loves in life.

I also may have more time to write here after I finish Camp NaNoWriMo.

A complicated road trip

It was all supposed to be so simple.  Head to WV, KY, TN, VA then home.  This route was going to allow us to see a friend I hadn't seen since perhaps 1993.  First the order got changed and I missed seeing a friend in TN.  We did however, add in a jaunt to see my Mama, Daddy, Great Grandma and Great Grandpa.  We of course took photos for the book of the dead.  We always take cemetery photos of our loved ones.  We recreated a photo we took when our son was 5 months old.  He was sitting atop his Great Grandparents (Mama and Daddy) double headstone while we held him.  This time he was 18 and sat on top with my husband next to him.  I'm sure that Mama and Daddy enjoyed holding their first great grandchild at 5 months and at 18 years.  The Great Great Grandparents didn't participate in the holding.

We missed my friend, but we learned that Gatlinburg should probably be renamed Cracklinburg owing to the sheer number of crack pipes and crack bongs they had on the main drag.  We have no proof, but we are guessing this is why they are called the Smokey Mountains.  There was a fair amount of cheap knives, badly done Chinese art and several sex shops.  The moonshine was ok.  There was a place with outstanding fries.

Our son, though born southern, has lost all connection to and concept of conquering a buffet.  We were saddened.  We nearly disowned him when he disparaged biscuits.  We have failed in some fundamental way if he can bash a biscuit.

The guys shot machine guns and I bought cast iron after a trip to the amusement park for those liking sharp objects, Smokey Mountain Knife Works. We spent a day at Wonderworks, spent time at Bush's beans and got lost up a mountain on a great drive.

Virginia was great and we really want to hit Richmond again.  There was so much we didn't finish doing.  We did make a quick jaunt to DC and one of the Smithsonian museums.  We could have spent a week in each location and not seen all there was to see.

On the way home we stopped at Tudor's Biscuit World.  Again we nearly disowned our son.  The cretin ordered a cheeseburger and once again denounced biscuits with a nasty sneer worthy of a Frenchman taking an American's order for coffee.

We learned that we pack like we are maniacs, we never have enough charging cables, but we do a lot of things on the spur of the moment, like the entire DC trip.  Totally spur of the moment.

We planned next to nothing.  We had a lot of fun finding things to do, but the snarcastic teen was a bit trying at times.  I also had PMS.  Not a good mix with husband and son who enjoy picking on people just to piss them off, it's apparently very fun to piss off Mommy.

We got home safe and sound to our kitty who also was safe and sound.  We got home on Good Friday.  We also learned that some idiots think Easter is the birth of Jesus.  They are supposed to be Christians.  We wonder now.

Losing friends..oh my!

When I first started this blog I was a lot more diligent about posting.  I set up several pages and had some links to some really good places.  I had a link to a great place.  Apparelyzed.com.  We've recently learned that as of December 15th, all of that will be gone.  Apparelyzed simply will no longer be.  Thousands of pages of advice, posts, friends, posts from friends who'd moved on, and some no longer living.  All of it gone in the blink of an eye.

There was always a game to play, a post to groan over, a plot to be hatched and a friend to be made.  We were the school yard of misfits hanging by the swings or slides, we were the jocks and the preppy kids, we were the nerds.  We were the modern day Breakfast Club.  We were a bunch of unlikely people all blended together due to a common cause.  An injury bound us all regardless of how affected or unaffected we were by the injuries.  On that site we found others who could understand the complex feelings and thoughts we locked away inside.  With one or two words hundreds of people could read between the lines and know our hearts.

Sure, there are other sites out there dedicated to the same conditions, but no site will ever be like that site.  No friends will ever mesh the way many of us meshed there.  There were differences of opinion, we didn't see eye to eye, We often argued, sometimes it got nasty, but it was just something that happend in a family.  I felt a sense of community there that I've not found in any other place including groups I've started.  There was something about "that place" something about the people.  That site was a testament to our growth, it was a tissue for our tears, the popcorn for our laughter and hundreds of friends all waiting to give advice, a shoulder to cry on or a kick in the pants when needed.

A wonderful man, a very kind and generous man created that site out of nothing over 10 years ago.  He saw a need and without much, if any, question he jumped in and started filling that gap with his own emotional, physical and financial investments.  The place took an enormous amount of time and energy.  I could see in the 5 years I was there how much it was taking away from him and his enjoyment.  It was a labor of love.

There are times when all good things come to an end, it's sad this is one of those things, but that's the way life is.  It's a series of loves, losses and growth.  I've grown from my time there.  I've grown in ways I'd never imagined.  I know people now I never would have met before.  We've shared our details and have started to make our way in the world.  Our "Boss" has pushed us from the nest and we're hoping we soar.

Maybe one day another brave and kind soul will take a seed from one of us and create a new safe haven to shelter and nurture those who need community.  Maybe one day there will be others like us nurturing, wise cracking and loving each other in their own twisted ways.  Maybe one day we will see the new garden or the nest that will rise from the past and forge a new path.

I am thankful I had my time there, I am so grateful for the people I've met and bonded with.  I'm grateful for the brothers and sisters I've met, loved, lost and kept.  With rose tinted glasses I will look into the past and remember only the good times because what use do I have for bad times?  With rose tinted glasses I will greet the future, but I may move them aside for healthy skepticism and trolls....oh those trolls!!

I don't make good choices when I'm sick

I've been accused of not taking care of myself before.  I've been told that getting the flu isn't a good thing.  I decided I'd take care of myself and do the "adult" thing.  I got a flu shot.  I am now sick.  I have a cold.  While I can't directly blame the flu shot, I can't rule it out.  I can't rule anything out especially things that might not be so good at this point.

Take tonight.  I was sitting around feeling horrible.  I saw a photo of some Italian Wedding Bean soup.  I thought, "Oh my, that would be wonderful tomorrow.  I shall make some"  I probably didn't think the word shall, it's not something I'd normally say, but the recipe my illness addled mind concocted is nothing I'd ever come up with on a normal day.

Beans-check
Meat-check
Greens-check
Broth-check
Pasta-check


What it should look like is a lovely light bowl of soup with tiny little meat balls, white beans, maybe some small pasta like orzo, pearl couscous, or pearl barley.  All lightness and delicate flavors in a soothing warm soup, easy on the tummy, packed with love, feel good and vitamins.

What my mind concocted was something far darker.  It's something no mind should ever contemplate, no crock-pot should be forced to hold or bear witness to and something no child or sick person should ever have to eat.  What my mind concocted was this...

Beans---hellz to the yeah!  Cannelli beans, Kidney beans and Black beans!! right on  (evil mind!!)
Meat--- I got you man!!  Turkey friggin hot dogs man!! No?  Bun length regular hot dogs!  Aight!!??
Greens---Like totally! Right on, there's like 3 pounds of kale or something like that in the fridge, kale is fun, it sounds like snail...kale...
Broth---oh like yeah I have some of that!!  It's in the box in the thing where the spices are!! I have some chicken broth totally!  It's not even out of date yet!!
Pasta---I got some spaghetti, some orzo, some pastina, some campanelle, you name it I got it!  I've even got.....spaghetti-o's!  YAY Spaghetti-O's!!!!
Tomatoes----OMG that would be like so totally cool to add some tomatoes, this will be so friggin healthy.

My husband stopped me.  We have something in the crock-pot.  I know there is garlic, chicken broth, some dry beans and some kale slowly crock-potting.  I have gnocchi on the counter waiting its turn tomorrow and I'm sure that someone sane will think for me when it comes to adding spices and things that make food good and stuff.

Oh heavens I can't think.  I think i still want soup with hot dogs, spaghetti-o's, kale and maybe some blueberries.

It's 3 am, cold medicine has left my mind a feeble little mass crying out for guidance and sleep.  While my mind's darker more sinister core keeps telling me to go add the hotdogs (I don't even like hot dogs!!) to the innocent soup.  It's a good thing I can't walk down stairs very well or that soup would be so screwed right now.

I think I need professional help.  Campbell's soup??